Page 6 of Drawn By Dragonblood
His gaze flitted down over me as if sizing up all six-foot-two of me.
I should have been wary, my usual cynical self. Should have been on edge, but nothing about the stranger or the images flashing through my mind threatened me. I’d always been pretty good at reading people, and even though the man could probably bench press five hundred pounds, his demeanor or stance didn’t appear alarming.
His pale eyes sat deep beneath thick brows. A thin, yet strong nose overlooked full lips, and a few days’ worth of stubble covered his jawline. He was the type of pretty face found on a runway model, yet rugged enough to enter the World’s Strongest Man competition.
Talk about intimidating—and hot as fuck. Even my straight ass couldn’t deny that fact.
What human wouldn’t want to be his sex slave?
We stared at each other for a full minute, neither of us moving. His nostrils flared a few times as though breathing the late summer air deep into his lungs, bracing himself for something. I swore his body heat emanated over the short distance between us, licking at my scruffy face and bare arms, causing goose bumps to rise along my skin.
Dakota’s familiar humming traveled my way as she rounded the boulders she had gone to squat behind, and I tore my attention off the stranger to glance over my shoulder. Head down and rearranging her long-sleeve T-shirt over her leggings, my wife approached.
“Hey, Jon,” she said, lifting her head, “did you—” She pulled up short, her jaw snapping shut as her gaze landed on our visitor. Her pupils dilated, and the pulse in her neck I loved to see throb heightened. Even her nipples tightened into luscious buds. She stared at him, totally enthralled with a man like she’d only been twice in the years I’d known her. Once, when our eyes had first met, and the other with the blond douche who’d been the reason we’d broken up for a short time.
I tensed, waiting for jealousy to knife me in the gut, but nothing stirred, not even a hint. Instead, I understood her reaction to the dark man…there was no denying the warmth of want tingling in my own groin because of his close proximity.
Dakota crossed her arms over her unbound breasts and, blinking, turned her focus on me, gaze troubled. She waited for me to throw a nutty, get all caught up in my head over her looking at someone other than me with even a hint of interest.
But I did. Not. Care.
“This is…uh…” I turned back around toward the monstrous man, one eyebrow raised, my insides a swarm of what the fuck.
“Elijah Tolzman.” He stuck his hand out.
My feet moved me forward as though he held me on his fishing line and reeled me in. “Jonathan Ebel.”
Our palms meshed together with a slow glide, sending a buzzing jolt up my arm and straight down to my dick. I’d expected a battle of the manly squeeze, but he merely clasped his long fingers around mine in a firm but seemingly intimate shake.
Another fantasy lit in vivid color inside my mind from his touch but with darker tones…chains and cuffs. Pain with pleasure.
Lust radiated from my palm to my cock, and I swallowed hard against the sudden lack of moisture in my mouth. Since when did that shit turn me on?
“Nice to meet you,” he said, his low voice sending another bout of shivers across my flesh. His pale eyes—blue as a crisp winter day—skittered over my face as though searching out my thoughts, desperate for them even.
Although he’d clearly been surprised by something at first eye contact with me, the stranger had shut down all emotion on his face except for his inquisitive gaze that caused my body to want to drown in pleasure.
Dakota stepped forward, startling me back to reality.
I tugged my hand away from Elijah’s, remembering that this man and I weren’t alone. How the fuck he’d managed to make me even briefly forget the love of my life, I had no clue.
“My wife, Dakota,” I rasped, putting my hand on her lower back, suddenly feeling the need to physically connect with her and let him know she belonged to me. Or perhaps I needed a reminder that I belonged to her.
“Wife.” A frown flitted over Elijah’s brow, so quick I thought maybe I imagined it. “A pleasure,” he murmured with a slight nod but didn’t offer her his hand.
Dakota’s lips parted as she stared at him.
A sensual smile curved his lips as he studied her wind and sunburned face.
I rubbed my fingertips along her spine, and she glanced up at me, her greenish eyes unsure and hesitant as though fighting off her desire to continue drinking in the dark stranger.
Smiling down at the love of my life came easy when I should have been annoyed as fuck she’d been checking him out. I offered her reassurance while my footing teetered on what felt like the edge of a cliff. She had been mine since the seventh grade. My one and only, and three months earlier, she had vowed before a Justice of the Peace to love me in sickness and in health, in good times and bad—and bad they had been ever since.
We had planned a honeymoon in the Bahamas so she could search for the mermaids she wished existed in real life rather than just the fantasy books she read, but I’d been dismissed from my job mere days after we’d gotten hitched. Definitely not for a lack of work ethic or having been found at fault of jack shit.
My only friend outside Dakota had trusted me with being in charge designing software for a start-up company we’d dreamed to fruition and he’d financed.
He’d been a goddamned flirt, but I’d ignored my inner voice suggesting I put space between the three of us because he signed my paychecks. That poor choice led to my demise when he’d approached me about a threesome without Dakota’s knowledge. I denied him even though we’d shared just about everything else, and he’d sent me packing the next day via a certified letter, dismissing me from his company.
